


Sleep is for the weak (and other things teenagers tell themselves)

by QueenSonoko



Series: Epithet Swapped [1]
Category: Epithet Erased (Cartoon)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate universe - role swap, BAMF sylvie, Car rides, Family, Fluff, Found Family, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, dad sylvie, gio is a gremlin, mera is stressed, mom molly, no beta we die like men, percy is a psychologist, percy needs sleep, sylvie is a detective
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:20:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21862000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenSonoko/pseuds/QueenSonoko
Summary: Dr. King chuckled.“Sleeping is a waste of time. Why sleep when you can get work done?”Now Detective Ashling frowned. “Kid. When did you last sleep?”“I’m not a kid. I haven’t slept for three days and I’m not starting now. I have a thesis coming up soon after all.”-----------or: Sylvie drives a kid home and somehow ends up adopting her along the way.
Relationships: Mera Salamin & Indus Tarbella, Molly Blyndeff & Giovanni Potage, Sylvester "Sylvie" Ashling & Percival "Percy" King
Series: Epithet Swapped [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575007
Comments: 33
Kudos: 189





	1. The Prologue (Or: When the dream began, I thought it meant nothing)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skyliaskye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyliaskye/gifts).



> this is dedicated to spliinkles and her amazing role swap au  
> link: https://spliinkles.tumblr.com/  
> will write more soon!  
> thanks to the people on tumblr for your support and suggesting that i post here, i appreciate it!

Detective Sylvester Ashling was not a family man. After all, he didn’t even have a significant other, (not that he wanted one) much less entertained the thought of kids. Sweet jazz city had too much crime anyway, he told himself. He was perfectly content with working on cases alone or as a police consultant, living in his small apartment, only speaking to other officers when he had to.

(He was happy... Right?)

(Yep. he was definitely happy.)

(…Denial never failed him before. Beefton would disagree but what did he know? It’s not like Beefton had actually managed to finish college while Sylvie had been kicked out completely.)

(Definitely not that.)

Detective Ashling blinked out of his thoughts when a ‘fellow cop’ patted his shoulder, mentioning something about a job well done in catching the perp. Oh, right. One of the perps had escaped custody and taken some teen hostage. A well-aimed counting sheep solved that problem.

The teen however… Doctor Percival King. Fifteen-year-old psychologist that was currently working on a major thesis involving criminal epithet users. It appeared to involve interviewing criminals as they were being shafted off to jail.

(It did not involve what to do if she was held at gunpoint apparently.)

(He really should look into self-defense for the reckless justice seekers. At least less cases would end in tragedy.)

(Where was he? Oh yeah, kids.)

Said child (Despite her insistence, she was indeed fifteen and therefore a minor) had no car and was a long way from home. (How did she even get here? An eternal mystery.) Evidently, she needed a ride. Considering all the other cop cars had gang members, Detective Ashling volunteered his car. He may not care for them, but it was best for kids to stay off the streets at night.

(They could get scammed into the Banzai Blasters or something. Who knows how that organization managed to stay up that long considering…)?

(Huh. That might be an interesting side project...)

(…He was off topic again.)

So now a kid was in his car. In the front seat and messing with his radio. She was frowning, he noted.

“Is all your music lullaby stations?” She asked.

That was… admittedly not what he expected. But answering was probably best.

“I had it modified. If you want something like death metal or whatever it is kids like then you can use headphones.” He said, ignoring the indignant protest against being called a child. “They’re in the glovebox if you don’t have your own.”

“Lullabies are okay… I guess. Why get it modified though?” Shit she had a point. Why did he have it modified? Oh yeah.

“Migraines exist kiddo.” Another protest against the K-word. “Some people don’t believe it and try to change it anyway, so I made it so they can’t.”

(Well… one specific person)

(Fuck you Dave.)

“Huh…” She stared out the window. Dr. King was silent for a single blessed minute.

Then: “Detective, do you think that your epithet has something to do with it? Its probably sleep related, correct?”

(Damn teen geniuses. Not that he could talk, considering what he was like when he was her age.)

He shrugged noncommittally. “Probably. I wouldn’t say its entirely that.”

(It definitely wasn’t the fact that he stared at a screen for half the day and sleeping the rest while in college.)

Dr. King made an inquisitive noise, inviting him to elaborate. He chose not to. Finally, the teen sighed.

“Having a sleep epithet must be useful for a detective. I saw one of the moves you had… nightmare fuel? I wonder what sorts of psychological effects that could have…” Once a doctor, always a doctor it seemed.

“Numerous. Once upon a time I wanted to answer that question myself.” He bit back a scathing remark about universities

(He was still bitter about his ejection it seemed.)

(Apparently it was ‘amoral’ to delve into traumas. Didn’t matter that the subjects signed a waiver, the professors called him an upstart and kicked him out.)

(He got satisfaction over suing them for stealing his thesis later.)

“So… you wanted to be a psychologist?”

“Yep.” He said, popping the ‘p’ “Didn’t really pan out. Now I’m a police consultant though so I guess it evens out. My epithet may have been useful, but I’d rather get a good night’s sleep than study for the rest of my life.”

(He didn’t doubt this path at all.)

(He was perfectly content)

Dr. King chuckled. “sleeping is a waste of time. Why sleep when you can get work done?”

Now Detective Ashling frowned. “Kid. When did you last sleep?”

“I’m not a kid. I haven’t slept for three days and I’m not starting now. I have a thesis coming up soon after all.”

(Well.)

(That explained some things.)

Detective Ashling chuckled nervously, ignoring his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. “And what… what do your parents say about that?” “They’re dead.”

(Shit.)

* * *

Detective Sylvester Ashling was not good with people. Especially children. Especially children with dead parents living on their own. On their own with no adults… god what if something happened? Who would she call? Friends? Other family? At least the detective had a supportive family growing up, and he had made sure that they were well taken care of in their old age. (It was where most of his funds went to if he was being honest.) But this kid had nobody. Nobody to care for her except herself.

(He chided himself. Freaking out did no good.)

(No matter that this kid reminded him so much of himself, but she didn’t even have a family to help her…)

(He was overthinking again.)

“Really? Do you have any family to stay with?” he stared ahead at the road, stony faced. He could only hope that disguised his panic to the licensed psychologist.

He idly noted that this was the fancier part of Sweet Jazz.

Dr. King rolled her eyes “I can take care of myself, thank you.”

“Really? Weren’t you held hostage just a few minutes ago?” he didn’t want to bring that up, but this kid was held at the point of a particularly destructive epithet, that had to have been troubling.

(Nobody had reacted as badly as Sylvie had when he had seen his first murder. Maybe he was overreacting?)

“I could have handled it.” Detective Ashling couldn’t help but note the slight tremor in her voice. Old habits die hard.

(So… she was more affected than she showed)

(Sylvie wasn’t sure how to feel about that)

(But he was right. His worry could suck it)

“Still, if you’re going to insist on putting yourself in danger, might as well learn self-defense. I hear that the youths club is hosting some sword fighting lessons.”

(What was he saying? A teen with a sword was a terrible idea. Oh well.)

(It wasn’t like he could make her stop chasing criminals to do a psychoanalysis on their epithets)

Dr. King perked up “Sword fighting? With real swords?”

“No, but I’m sure you could put the lessons to use.” Maybe she could use a stick or something.

The teen looked intrigued now. “Learning to defend myself would be beneficial… I’ll think about it- oh. We’re here”

Detective Ashling pulled into the driveway of a big townhouse. He whistled softly “Jeez, kid.”

“Not a kid.” He ignored her

“How much does your job make again?”

Dr king… no, Percy rolled her eyes. “I didn’t buy it myself, detective. it’s my family home, not all that special. Many people inherit houses from their parents.”

He conceded the point and unlocked the door. “Sure is nice though.”

(He was not jealous of a fifteen-year-old.)

(He was not)

Percy shrugged as she stepped out of the car. “I wouldn’t be the best to ask that. I grew up here so it is normal, but I know that many others are not as fortunate as I.”

Detective Sylvester eyed her ramshackle lab coat and clothes that were just a bit too big. “Wouldn’t know from looking at you, huh?”

“I do my best to be frugal. I do not want to be missing the funds I will need to purchase my own clinic.”

(He was NOT jealous.)

He raised an eyebrow. “Most psychologists can’t do that.”

“I am not most psychologists, Detective Sylvester Ashling.”

(Of course she knew his name. of course she did.)

He chuckled. “Of course you aren’t kid.”

(When was the last time he had laughed like this? Felt genuine care for another being?)

“Not a kid.” She frowned, walking into the house and leaving detective Sylvester to his thoughts

“Yeah. You’re more than just a kid.”

(She was doing so much, all alone. Just like him.)

(Why did he connect with this kid so much? That he wanted to protect her, see her grow up and be successful. Why did he want her to take a damn nap for once?)

(It was almost like…)

“Oh fuck.”

Detective Sylvester Ashling was not good with people. But this kid was something else. And as he drove to his shoddy apartment and ate his basic ramen, he couldn’t help but turn the though over in his mind.

A kid. All alone. Someone should take responsibility. Someone should keep an eye out.

Detective Sylvester Ashling was not a family man. But that might change with the introduction of Doctor Percival King

(There has to be a reason, right? Maybe if he kept tabs on her, he’d find that reason. Maybe he’d find a kindred spirit, who understands this.)

(But that’s crazy.)

Elsewhere, Molly Blyndeff sneezed.

* * *

Percy had a sword.

Really, Detective Ashling should have expected it. He only had himself to blame for putting the idea in her head. how was he supposed to know shed actually use (as Percy herself put it) ‘a real ass goddamn sword’ to defend herself?

(Though he wasn’t one to talk when it came to unconventional weapons, Beefton would say. He would tell Beefton that yoyos were perfectly reasonable thank you, and he used it for hypnosis as well as a blunt force weapon.)

(They agreed to disagree.)

(What was he thinking about again? Oh yeah, sword.)

She evidently had taken to the lessons, considering she had somehow defeated some small-time thugs. Not that the teenager had just called the police and left, no she insisted on staying to observe their mental condition.

(That was going to be a lot of paperwork for the force…)

(He wasn’t concerned with her psychoanalysis, but he was trying to get her to just visit prisons and interview them there. Less danger.)

(Not that she listened.)

And now Detective Ashling had to drive her home again. He didn’t even volunteer, there was an available police car ready, she just hopped in.

(He really needed to lock his car)

(Except no, locking invited breaking windows and he kept everything valuable on his person where he could easily cause pickpockets to fall asleep.)

“There are police vehicles that are free Percy.” He stated as he opened his diver side. “You sure you don’t want to go with them?”

“Why would I? I am already familiar with you; it would not make sense to go with a stranger when I can ride with a familiar party.”

“Uh huh.” At least she had some sense of stranger danger. “Can’t drive you straight home though. I’ve got a meeting with a client.” Detective Ashling started up the car and backed out of his parking spot.

(Said client had asked him to investigate some suspicious happenings involving the Sweet Jazz Museum, paying several hundred up front.)

(He wasn’t desperate)

“So you do work freelance. I wondered.” Percy was idly running her fingers down the hilt of her sword as she spoke.

“Yeah, I do- kid, why do you have a real sword?” She didn’t bother to comment on the kid thing again, except to briefly glare.

“You told me to learn defense.” Percy said, as if it was obvious. Detective Ashling noted the craftsmanship. Older, probably made with an epithet fifty or so years ago. Would be worth a large sum on the black market. There was an image on the hilt, family crest maybe? So… most likely an heirloom of some sort.

“I didn’t mean with an actual sword. I thought you use a cane or fighting sticks.”

(Of course a teen would jump at the idea of using swords)

Percy frowned. “Metal is better to direct my epithet. It has proved quite useful at that.”

“Oh? And what’s your epithet?”

(She had an epithet. Of course. He was going to strangle Dave for not putting that in her file.)

(Because of course she had one.)

(Not that he expected a straight answer, telling another your epithet wasn’t typical unless they were close to you.)

“It’s Parapet.”

(Apparently, he was wrong.)

“Parapet… those small decorative walls on bridges?” Detective Ashling mentally catalogued that, making a mental note to look into that kind of architecture.

(Really, the fact that most officers didn’t know basic building layouts baffled him. Efficiently investigating was important and so many were a mess with directions…)

(That wasn’t relevant right now, however.)

Percy shrugged “Not a common word, so it took me longer than others. I’m highly trained in proficiency and creativity, but my stamina is admittedly poor.”

“So, do you construct small buildings?” It was a guess, but was reasonable enough.

“Yes, I do. Currently the only ones I can reliably summon is a wizard tower and a mushroom hut, but I am practicing some defensive structures as well.”

“Interesting.” Detective Ashling wasn’t feigning interest either, Percy had a good grip on her epithet, not common among teens or even adults. “So… you’re practicing the balance circle? Attack, defense, heal? You must have quite a bit of proficiency for that. Roughly… five or so stars I’d wager?”

“About that level, yes. The balance circle is the ideal goal.” She stated curtly.

(So she had more proficiency than Sylvie… She must have paid for private lessons. Or she was really devoted to training)

“Impressive…” He murmured, only half watching the road now. Looking over at Percy, the teen hadn’t seemed uncomfortable, but more bored.

(People often don’t find their own epithets remarkable he reasoned.)

Percy changed the subject. “Do I get to meet this client of yours?”

“No.” Detective Ashling was not going to let a kid loose in that part of town. “You wait in the car until its safe. The neighborhood is dangerous. Better to stay in here. Speaking of…” The car came to a stop in front of a seedy apartment complex. “Oh look. We’ve arrived.” He carefully thumbed the flash drive in his pocket. “I won’t be long, but don’t talk to anybody here. The place is crawling with weirdos and teens flashing their epithets around.”

Percy saluted, somehow completely seriously. “Yes sir.”

“Alright, I’m locking the door now, but if you need to get out there’s an emergency release. You know about that.” Percy nodded and the detective took out his keys and locked the car.

(The keys definitely didn’t have a cute sheep keychain. Anyone who said otherwise was lying)

(Obviously)

The detective sighed as he approached the graffiti caked building

“Okay. Time to show you what I’ve gathered… Mr. Murdoch.”

* * *

The complex was nearly empty, save a few hassled staff members that pointed him to the room. Five floors up, second on the right. No elevators. Typical.

(Who knew how this place was kept running? They seemed to have a lot of vacancies and it felt like the place where a lot of drug deals happened…)

(Actually, he didn’t want to know.)

Detective Ashling passed nobody on the stairs, or down the hall.

(Nobody, not even staff? Even vacant rooms need to be cleaned. The smell wasn’t the best either… and Sylvie was pretty sure he saw some rats…)

He knocked while absorbed in his thoughts.

“Doors open. Come in.” The voice was smooth, but not quite soothing. It oozed a false charisma, like a sleazy politician

The detective walked into the dimly lit room only to let out an undignified squeal. He had come face to face with a giant golden spike, which then retracted back into an equally large safe, closed by a shadowed hand before detective Ashling could get a good look at what was inside.

(That explained some things.)

Detective Ashling shook his head, clearing his mind and steeling is nerves. “you’re Mr. Murdoch, am I correct?”

“That I am. Sorry for the rude greeting. I thought you were someone else…” the figure stayed in shadow, just the barest of light touching some golden earrings. “Thanks for coming, detective.”

“A pleasure.” It wasn’t. “I’ve got the files.” The flash drive was tossed over, swiftly caught by the client, revealing a suit. “There are two suspect employees but otherwise I’ve found no corruption in the museum.”

(Honestly the two were less likely corrupt and more likely just trying to find a long-lost family heirloom.)

“Gotcha.” Mr. Murdoch said distractedly, preoccupied with the flash drive. “Your pay is on the table.”

Detective Ashling raised an eyebrow. “Mind telling me why you wanted this?” he pocketed the envelope on the table by the door after thumbing through the cash

(Right amount, and it all looked real.)

(Very legit)

(Well, aside the suspicious meeting place)

(…That wasn’t important right now)

“That is a dangerous question, detective.” A flash of light came from the shadowed man’s eye. So… he had a prosthetic eye, no way that glint was natural. “Call it public service. I’ve got an investment in that place and I’m just trying to keep those safe.”

“And it would have nothing to do with, say… an amulet shipped to the museum for a top-secret exhibit?”

“I suggest you leave. Now.” The smooth and charismatic voice had turned harsh. The detective didn’t budge.

“I’m afraid I can’t. There’s fairly incriminating evidence of you… In the deep web.”

(He tried his best to hide the tremor in his voice)

(It was hard to tell if he succeeded)

“I’d watch your tongue if I were you. An inquisitive mind is not an asset here.”

“You hired a detective; you should expect a thorough investigation. I have a lot of questions about your finances.”

(Especially the connections to… that organization)

“Keep talking. I’m sure your kid will be fine”

Chills went down Sylvie’s spine, but he kept a straight face. “I’m not sure what you mean. I have no kids.”

“Sure, the kid you came with is perfectly safe.” The charming voice wasn’t so charming anymore, but menacing and cold.

Sylvie froze.

(Shit. Shitshitshitshit.)

Not a word was spoken as he rushed out the door, down the stairs, and past the desk. He ran out to find the car… empty. And missing tires. These people work fast. But there were more pressing matters.

Percy was gone.

* * *

Sylvie opened the passenger side door to find Percy’s sword resting innocuously on the seat, as if nothing was wrong. There was a faint scent of sulfur as well…

(This was his fault.)

(He should have driven her home first, what was he thinking?)

(He should have never gotten attached)

“No… No… No!” he growled. The hopelessness was sinking through “Think, Sylvie… think!”

(This place didn’t have far to go without bumping into an investigator for some crime scene or other, plus there had been no other cars and carrying a teen girl was generally considered suspicious, so that was out…)

(That left the alleys.)

(That… was arguably worse)

The alleys were like mazes, poor layout choices and false exits made by gangs would do to confuse most cops, detectives, or initiates on a test of courage. If someone didn’t have a map or know exactly where they were going and where they had come from, they were fucked.

(There was no choice. He had to try.)

(Luckily, he had the tow company on speed dial. As well as police.)

Summoning twenty or so counting sheep, he sent them to scout the twisted labyrinth of corridors and cul-de-sacs with the instruction to search thoroughly and report back to him if they found her, while he let out a breath of hesitation and set a hand on the left wall. Percy’s sword hung heavy on his back.

“I hope this works…”

He walked down the alley, searching through holes, boxes, anything that a teen could reasonably fit into. The footsteps echoed loudly in his head, and he was certain that his hart was going to alert the culprits. But nothing. Not even duffel bags of illegal products. False positives that turned out to be dead ends, dead ends turned out to be red herrings, and red herrings turned out to be false positives.

This went on for at least two hours.

Two hours of nothing.

It was entirely deserted.

It was entirely silent.

(Then why did he feel like someone was… watching him?)

He turned around on a whim, to find nobody.

The alley floor was covered on old moldy carpet tossed out from above.

(Paranoid, he was paranoid… right?)

(But no, that was wrong… he heard breathing. It was… right below him)

He took a step onto the carpeted ally, feeling the floor give way only slightly. That meant he was right on top of a hidden door of some kind. Sylvie dug through the damp carpets. A trapdoor rested against the pavement.

(It had to be her. It just had to be… right?)

The detective tore the trapdoor open and hopped down with barely a second thought. This was a mistake. He heard a snap, and winced.

(Ankle, probably broken, definitely damaged on that impact. If he was lucky the snap was just landing sounds.)

Sylvie took a step and immediately wished he hadn’t.

(Broken then. He could deal with that.)

(He had no choice.)

Limping slightly, Sylvie peered out into the dimly lit area

(Abandoned wine cellar, judging from the shelves and kegs now in disarray. It didn’t explain the rocks…)

(This would take a while to search. Damn messy places.)

He sucked in a breath… and listened. The breathing was in here. Soft… from the corner. Sylvie hobbled that way, hoping…

(He had to find her. He had to protect his kid.)

(His kid.)

Not giving himself time to dwell on that thought, he turned the corner.

Percy was there. She was unconscious, but breathing. A once over revealed no obvious wounds, but there were signs of epithet exhaustion.

(That sulfur scent… of course.)

“Kid put up a fight…” he sighed, relived.

(She was okay. Tired, probably exhausted her epithet to the brink, but she was okay.)

Sylvie lifted her up off the floor, and a paper flitted down. He paused and picked it up, wincing slightly.

‘Best keep your mouth shut. Next time you won’t find her, detective.’

(Typed, probably in this building from the ink and paper choice.)

He pocketed it and crawled back up from the cellar. His foot ached as he gently set down Percy. “I’ll have to tag out Beefton. Take care of her till we get to the car.” He shook slightly, murmured “dream big…” and passed out.

(When Beefton took over he dreamed of being lost in that maze forever.)

* * *

Then, Sylvie woke with a start, still groggy. (Sirens… right. He had called the police.) He was laying down on something hard… He reached out to touch the pavement.

(Somebody should make pavement softer)

(Wait, that’s stupid.)

There was a sharp pain from his ankle. “Ow…” he groaned. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Detective Ashling looked around. Percy was staring at him with an expression of intense thought.

(Percy… Percy!)

Detective Ashling sat up. “Kid! Are you okay?”

Percy tilted her head. “I am alright… you seem far more injured.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “I’m alight kid. I’ve been worse.”

“That’s good.” Her eyebrows were furrowed “What happened, kid?”

Percy looked down “I didn’t see their faces. It looked like you were being taken against your will. So, I followed. A few got the jump on me as soon as I left the vehicle. I tried to fight them off, and I managed for a while, but I think one may have had an exhaustion epithet, the moment they grabbed me I found myself having little energy, it was difficult to move. I blacked out and… then I woke up here.” She rubbed her arms, “Beefton is pretty nice. He said you broke your ankle.”

“Ah, he worries too much. I’m fine. It’s probably just a sprain.”

(He could almost hear Beefton's disappointment.)

(He didn’t care. He’d do it again for his kid.)

(His kid.)

“If you say so…” A female officer arrived shortly after the conversation had lapsed into an awkward silence to take Percy home. A while later, paramedics arrived. Detective Ashling refused questioning, claiming memory loss of the incident.

(There goes the money he got from the job…)

(He hated medical bills.)

(Hopefully there would be some remaining.)

(He wondered how much adoption papers cost?)


	2. You can sleep when you’re dead (then why am I so tired?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “good thing, kid. Don’t get in trouble when I'm not there to bail you out, you hear?”  
> “I'm not completely incapable of protecting myself, detective.”  
> “Remind me of that when you're in danger again.”  
> “Oi.”  
> \-----------  
> the adoption is finalized! additionally, the start of the museum arc.

Percy sat at the dining table, kicking her legs idly.

(An old habit she had been trying to stop.)

(It was working… somewhat.)

(But she was nervous. A house call was… unexpected.)

A tall, muscular child services officer with a cheery smile and a motherly face was sitting in front of her. “It’s nice to meet you miss king-”

Percy interrupted her. “Doctor. I do have a degree officer Grady.”

(Sure, Percy didn’t wear a coat, but the sweater vest was mature enough that she didn’t believe that it was needed.)

“Doctor King then. I’d like to ask you a few questions.” The woman smiled pleasantly, if a little… vaguely.

(Percy briefly wondered how the woman was qualified for this work.)

(Percy was very aware of the fact that inscribed had better chances at jobs.)

“I have told you all that I know of the incident. I have permission to live by myself. What other questions do you have?”

Officer Grady laughed “oh, this isn’t about that! It’s about this!”

The kind officer set down a file. Percy raised an eyebrow. “This is my file, I presume?” The psychologist picked it up and flipped through it.

(It was indeed her file.)

(She knew that sooner or later there would be a protocol. A file was a natural start to that)

“Yes, indeed! But there’s something in the back that you should see.”

Percy flipped to the last document obligingly. She skimmed through the thing, barely reading it. “seems to be…” Something caught her eye. She looked over it again. “Custody of… child? I am fully capable of taking care of myself officer. To be frank, I do not need you to adopt me.”

“I’m not the one adopting you. I’m just here to deliver the papers so you can sign the consent form!”

Percy simply looked back at the papers. “If you aren’t, then who…” The doctors gaze finally settled on the ‘adoptive parents’ section.

In loopy cursive, the name ‘Sylvester Ashling’ had been marked down.

(The detective? But why…)

(He _had_ been acting different…)

She fingered a familiar smudge on the paper, the green ink rubbing off slightly. It seemed to be a smudged doodle of a sheep.

(She recognized that smudge.)

Percy slipped into a memory.

_It had been almost a week since Percy had seen the detective. He had been taken to a hospital; however, the police department had refused to tell her what hospital the detective was incarcerated at. Percy had resolved to visit every hospital she could to find him. This was the latest one._

_And she had it right this time it seemed._

_Percy slipped into the room unnoticed. Detective Ashling was idly flipping through some paperwork._

_“Detective.” Percy caught the man’s attention, and he quickly put aside the papers._

_“Kid.” He let out a slight sigh. Percy noted the tension in his shoulders relaxing slightly “how did you get here?”_

_“The police had neglected to inform me of your whereabouts, so I took the liberty to search myself.”_

_“Right…” the detective was silent._

_“What have you been working on?” Percy’s gaze glazed over the paperwork, noting a small sheep doodle._

_“Eh, stuff. Job never stops when you’re me.” He laughed mirthlessly as he stuffed the paperwork into a folder, smudging the doodle. “It’s not important kid. How have you been?”_

_“I have been well.” Percy smiled pleasantly._

_“Good thing, kid. Don’t get in trouble when I’m not there to bail you out, you hear?”_

_“I’m not completely incapable of protecting myself, detective.”_

_“Remind me of that when you’re in danger again.”_

_“Oi.”_

The recollection faded from her mind as she read over the paper again. “I suppose… it would be an ideal arrangement.”

“well alright then! I’ll leave ya alone to sign it.” The woman that Percy had almost forgotten was there stood up and left, leaving Percy to her thoughts.

She eyed the door, signing the places she needed to before leaving with the.

(she had questions.)

* * *

Percy stood at the entrance to a run down flat. The paint was peeling, but the place was cozy. The old woman at the front desk had been very nice, and Percy had noted that her nametag had shared the name with the sign out front. That usually indicated a family run business, which explained the lack of staff. The doctor rested her hand on the hilt of her sword.

(It had been passed down the king family for generations)

(Even now, it lay comfortably on her back. Like it was meant for her.)

(Of course, that was ridiculous it was simply made for the body type of her family, one maintained with exercise and training)

Hesitantly, she knocked on the door.

There were a few moments of rustling. The detective opened the door, his hair messy and not in the usual ponytail. Percy noted his coat was hooked on the back of the door, and he was wearing a blue hoodie.

“Kid?” the man looked at her questioningly “How did you find me? How did you get this address?”

Percy cast a level gaze at the man. “I saw it in some paperwork. May I come inside?”

Detective Ashling looked at her for a sec, then shrugged. “Sure kid.” He opened the door wider, inviting her in

“Not a kid.” She reminded him as she stepped inside

The apartment was messy. A few mugs were left on the dining table, some even still filled with contents. Clothes were spilling out of drawers, not folded. A few articles were still in hampers. The waste bin was filled with energy bar wrappers, and the sink was empty. Percy peered at the dining table and the half-eaten calzone on a paper plate. She raised an eyebrow at the detective.

(Disorganization. The sign of a distracted mind. And one of her most despised traits.)

(She would always tell her patients that the first step to recovery was cleaning your living space.)

“It’s not usually like this, okay?” he said. “There’s a… particularly tricky case that I need to solve before tomorrow. I was finishing up when you knocked.”

“And the…” she looked down one of the mugs, partway full with a clear green liquid. “tea, I assume? Do you use that to stay up?”

The man chuckled “Nah, helps me focus.” Percy noted that his eyes had no visible bags, nor any signs of exhaustion.

“Alright then.” She cleared her throat “I have to discuss something with you.”

Detective Ashling looked at her quizzically.

“You are adopting me, are you not?”

He spluttered “wha- who- h-how did you find out?”

(Honesty was best in this case.)

“I got a visit from child services.” She said blandly “I am not averse to this arrangement, but I do have to wonder why?”

The man sighed, pushing some of his hair back with his hand. “kid. You’re living all alone with no adults. Nobody seems to bat an eye to the fact a _literal child_ is off wandering into crime scenes and who _knows_ what else.”

“I am not a child.”

“Legally, you are.” He adjusted his glasses. “At least I can keep an eye on you. You get into trouble a lot, you know?”

“That is logical to assume…” She conceded “perhaps I can tag along to your investigations as well?”

“Persistent, aren’t you?” He muttered “Sure… as long as you stick with me.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

* * *

(The process had been remarkably speedy from there. Percy suspected that the child services had gotten her papers ready faster for one reason or another)

(She wasn’t exactly complaining.)

Percy reflected on this fact days later, lazily examining a painting of a woman with an umbrella.

(She didn’t quite understand the point of it, but art had never been her specialty. Still, she could admire the skill put into each stroke.)

As she appreciated the art, she slipped into yet another memory

_When Percy led Sylvie inside her house for the first time, the man was in awe. He whistled at the armor and paintings decorating the walls. “Jeez, even fancier on the inside.” The man ran a finger across one of the frames “How do you have time to clean these? I don’t see any staff employed…”_

_“I do not hire staff. I clean it myself. it takes much hard work, but these are heirlooms and do not deserve to be disrespected” she said blandly. “Cleaning is also healthy for the body and mind”_

_“Never took you for the kind to like art.”_

_“I do not se the point of analyzing any sort of meaning, however I can appreciate the artistry. It is itself a form of expression.”_

_The man chuckled “Well said, kid.”_

Her attention was split by a nearby tour.

A particularly muscular man was leading a group of 12-year-olds. Percy moved closer to hear what they were saying. “-children! For the start of this tour I am legally obligated to ask you if you know what an epithet is!” The kids all nodded “Good! I don’t have to explain it to you!” His smile was genuine as he flipped through flash cards. “Next question! Who here is inscribed?”

(An epithet tour then. Not uncommon, but usually contained much younger children. The man seemed to be the most outwardly pleasant of the staff, that likely explained why he was leading this group)

“I do!” a pink haired boy raised his hand frantically, with six other children nearby pointing to him as well, hyping him up. Percy eyed each of them. Five boys and a girl, each hanging to this boy’s every word.

(Healthy friend groups were a very good thing to have at a young age.)

“Oh! Small child! You are very lucky! Four out of five people are do not have them!” the man shuffled through some more cards “May I ask what it is?”

“It’s butt whooping!” the kid smirked. “I’m gonna be the baddest bad guy ever! Everyone will fear the name of Giovanni Potage!” his friends chimed in with support as he laughed maniacally. Percy moved closer at that.

(what could drive a child to villainy at this age? Perhaps he would be willing to participate in an interview. What would his epithet have to do with it?)

“Well. This is very, very awkward!” the man seemed to be unsure of how to proceed, and was about to open his mouth when a smaller woman interrupted him.

“Sir Indus, you are only scheduled for the hour. Please keep aware of the time.” The woman was pale, thin, with almost glassy eyes. Percy examined the woman

(Boots were created for pain relief, as were gloves. Must have had muscle… no, skeletal issues in the past.)

“Of course, Mera! Now, who wants to hear about a magical artifact to excite this boring tour?” the man smiled brightly “The museum is soon going to have an event about the Arsene Amulet! I hear that it can steal epithets! That’s exciting, isn’t it?”

“S-Sir Indus!” the woman spluttered out “That exhibit isn’t public! We aren’t at liberty to disclose that information at all!” she groaned “If the higher ups find out about this the well get fired…”

The box she was holding tumbled out onto the floor, spilling several artifacts that perky vaguely recognized. The kids made a commotion, and the resulting brawl was enough to distract the employees from the pink haired Giovanni whispering something to his friends.

However, Percy didn’t notice any of that. Her train of thought was more focused of the amulet they mentioned.

(That amulet was notorious, yet very little was known about it. If Percy could examine it…)

(But that could possibly take weeks, and she didn’t think she could wait that long.)

(A new thesis… an area of study largely unexplored. What are the psychological effects of having one’s epithet taken away?)

(Perhaps she could convince the employees to let her investigate.)

(She’d just have to call Sylvie and tell him that she was staying out later for research purposes.)

She was bumped into as she walked to the restroom, passively observing that it was the same kid from before. He muttered a ‘sorry’ and sped off to another exhibit.

(Who knew that children could have such a vested interest in paleontology at that age? According to data, 12 was when interest in the field of paleontology waned as schools stopped covering it)

Percy shook her head, sending at text to Sylvie.

_To:Detective_

_I have found something intriguing. Research is going to be long. I will probably be out for a while._

_Okay, glad you texted me. Just don’t die, okay?_

_I will not die. But I will be out until after dark_

_Kid, youre killing me. Youre killing your father._

_I am not a kid. And I have done no such thing._

_Just be careful, okay?_

_Call me if theres trouble._

_Of course I will. I am not completely reckless_

Percy put up her phone, heading to the women’s bathrooms to camp out until closing.

(Sneaking was sometimes necessary when one worked in psychology)

(Sylvie would say that was ‘a load of bullshit’, but she was the one with a doctorate.)

(it wasn’t too long until closing anyways…)

(The prospect of the amulet was too interesting to just leave alone.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact! the first part took forever to write and the other two parts were written in the same day.  
> writers block sucks.  
> anyway, its shorter, but i hope you guys like it!


	3. Villainy loves company (A sweet soupy comfort)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giovanni was a supervillain.
> 
> (Or at least, he was gonna be a bad guy someday.)
> 
> (Bad guys were the coolest! They were stylish and badass and even if they died it was in the awesome way possible. Without bad guys the comics and cartoons wouldn’t be nearly as cool!)
> 
> (Giovanni wanted to be that.)
> 
> \-----------
> 
> Or: Giovanni finds time to be a kid among his plans of villainy.

Giovanni was a supervillain.

(Or at least, he was _gonna_ be a bad guy someday.)

(Bad guys were the coolest! They were stylish and badass and even if they died it was in the awesome way possible. Without bad guys the comics and cartoons wouldn’t be nearly as cool!)

(Giovanni wanted to be that.)

Since Giovanni was an awesome supervillain, he didn’t think it was fair for his mom to make him clean his room.

(Supervillains didn’t have to make beds, or organize bookshelves, or tidy the stuffed animals he _definitely didn’t have_.)

Giovanni did clean his room though, cause his mom was _scary_ when she was mad. He grumbled as he folded his shirts and pants, putting them in the drawers neatly.

He mentally went over his checklist. Straightening posters? Check. Dusting the desk? Yup. Clearing under the bed? Scary, but he shone a light under to scare away monsters, so check.

“Mom!” he shouted “rooms done!” he waited for an answer “MOOOOM!” he hollers

A shrill voice came from downstairs. “DON’T SHOUT! MOMMY HAS A HEADACHE!”

(ugh. Yoga night was yesterday.)

Giovanni huffed “I CLEANED MY ROOM LIKE YOU TOLD ME TO!” he shouted back “CAN I GO OUT NOW?”

“SURE, WHATEVER!” came the reply “BE BACK BEFORE DARK! TONIGHT IS BINGO NIGHT!”

Gio grinned, grabbing his backpack and running out the door before his mom could say another word. The boy sprinted down the street, grabbing poles to make turns and stopping when the crosswalk sign was red.

(he may have been a criminal, but he wasn’t completely reckless)

Before long, a park came into view. He smiled wider and rushed forward. Then he collided with somebody.

Giovanni sprawled out onto the sidewalk.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” the voice was concerned, but Giovanni’s vision was blurry.

“M’fine!” he hopped up, dusted off some asphalt, and ran past her.

(The voice stuck in his mind, but all he could think of was stars for some reason…)

It didn’t take long before he arrived at the playground right in the middle of the park.

It was an awesome place, the best playground in the city!

(There were a bajillion slides and swings and sandpits, there was a merry go round and a thing that he spun and ran and tried not to fall off, even a climbing wall and a giant jungle gym!)

(It was awesome.)

Gio ignored all the cool stuff though, and headed towards a play house almost hidden by a giant tree.

Opening the door, Giovanni was greeted by his best friends in the whole world.

“BOSS!” the pink haired boy was tackled into hugs by all six of them. Crusher, Spike, Car Crash, Dark Star, Flamethrower, and Ben were all there.

(Ben was the youngest and hadn’t gotten a nickname yet. Giovanni was still trying to find a cool one for him.)

“MY BOYS!” he grinned. “Sorry I’m late, _mom_ made me clean my room.” A chorus of groans echoed. “I know, right? I was like, ‘bad guys don’t clean rooms!’ but she made me anyway.”

Dark Star nodded. “Parents always think that they can boss us bad guys around!”

Spike chimed in “The only one who can boss is around is you, boss!” she whispered something that gio didn’t catch but sounded like ‘I love soup…’ or something

Ben nodded along “Yeah! How are we supposed to be evil if we just do whatever everyone else says!”

Giovanni grinned “I got out though! And the meeting of the baddest bad guy group ever is in progress!”

Flamethrower coughed “Name is a work in progress though...”

Gio shrugged. “That can come later. Let’s get down to business!” he pulled ff his backpack, grabbing a folder from inside. “Time for our plan of action!”

He pointed to a map of the sweet jazz museum.

(It was more of a doodle outline, but he couldn’t find anything online that was free, okay?)

“This is our target.” Giovanni announced

Car Crash squinted at the drawing, though it was hard to tell with his bangs in his eyes all the time “its… the museum? But that’s just a bunch of old things.”

Gio snorted “Uh, they’re _valuable_ old things, car crash!”

Car Crash mumbled “Crash _one_ toy car seven times and they never let you forget it…”

Giovanni chose to ignore that “Anyway, here’s the plan! We attend the field trip that’s tomorrow, then, we scope out the place!” he paused, glancing at the kids hanging onto his every word. “Then we wait in the bathrooms till it closes and steal from the gift shop!”

Spike cheered “Heck yeah! Those things are too expensive as they are! YOURE SO COOL BOSS!”

Crusher joined in, caught up in the action “YEAH! SO COOL! THE COOLEST EVER”

Soon a chorus of whoops and hollers chorused from the small gaggle of children, excitement flowing.

Then Ben spoke up “did you say Monday?” Gio nodded at him “I can’t stay that night… my aunt is coming over and mom wants us to make cookies.”

The collective groups face fell. Spike muttered something about her dad asking her to help with chopping wood that night, Dark Star had an astronomy night with his dad that he had been looking forward to, Flamethrower had cheerleading, and Crusher was babysitting his cousins.

Giovanni sighed “That’s okay! Me and Car Crash can do it!”

Car Crash looked down. “Mom said that if I crashed another toy id be grounded from anything after dark…”

The chorus of groans was audible, but Giovanni did his best to cheer them up. “Guys, as the boss its only natural that I go it alone sometimes! You guys can still help me scope!”

The mood brightened considerably, but was interrupted when a loud slamming sound came from the door of the play house. Gio peeked out and saw a screaming toddler ramming his hands against the door.

(It was Crushers little brother if he remembered correctly)

Giovanni stuck out a tongue “Its still our turn with this! Go away!” The kid wailed louder and crusher flushed.

“Sorry boss… I was supposed to be back five minutes ago…” He adjusted his shades “I should go…”

Gio stood up, bumping his head against the roof “Then our meeting is adjourned! See you guys next Thursday!”

The team shuffled out, leaving Giovanni alone with his thoughts.

(The plan needed changing after all)

* * *

the next day, Giovanni woke up bright and early… with his mom abruptly turning on the light to awaken him.

He whined and batted the air grumpily, pulling the blanket over his head to block out the light that was currently assaulting his eyes. “mooom… too early… five more minutes…”

“Breaks over. School time.” Came his mother’s voice from the hall, having already left Giovanni to get ready.

Gio peeked out, squinting at the bright lights practically slicing into his face. The pink haired boy squinted and stuck his tongue at the door. “bad guys don’t _need_ to be woken up super early!” he shouted, rubbing his face drowsily.

(Drat. His eyes were used to the light now…)

(Might as well get ready…)

Giovanni sat up, yawning as he glared at his alarm clock.

(6:00. Not even close.)

(But his mom would keep coming in and bugging him if he didn’t get dressed…)

The pink haired boy slipped on a fresh set of clothes and grabbed a really nice coat that was hanging off the doorknob.

(His boys had saved up for it by pooling their money and doing odd jobs and purchased it as a gift for their boss)

(He wore it every day. Even when it was really hot.)

Gio stopped by the bathroom to clip that one lock of hair that was always in his eyes and splash some water in his face

(He didn’t know why it was important, but tv said it was so he did it anyway)

According to his phone it was 6:15, so Giovanni grabbed his backpack and left. “Going to school mom!” he shouted back. No response, so he just shrugged and walked out. He had an hour or so before the school bus came, so he could walk around the neighborhood a little.

“this is one I haven’t been down. Lest see… apartments… shops… toy store! Cool.” Gio grinned into the windows. It was a kid’s wonderland! Trains whistled as they chugged on their miniature tracks, tiny planes and blimps hung from the ceiling, there was a fully decked out house play area with a kid sized kitchen, a toy tool bench, even a mini doctor’s office and bank. There were boxes upon boxes of toys that weren’t on display too, in fact there were boxes everywhere, and he even spotted a girl his age playing with a baby doll. (He couldn’t pick out details. She was pretty far back and the lights were pretty dimmed.)

“whoa…” he muttered “how have I never been here before?” the pink haired boy looked up at the ‘sorry! We are closed’ sign “Closed? Seriously?” he sighed “Guess I’ll check it out later.”

(If his curfew didn’t get in the way)

(Stupid curfews)

(He’d ignore them if his mom wasn’t so scary)

While busy with his thoughts, Giovanni glanced at another sign and groaned “Under construction for repairs… bleh.” He stuck his tongue at the offending sign “this place won’t be open until Saturday? Boo.”

He never saw the woman in a bear hoodie staring straight at him as he headed towards the bus stop.

* * *

The school day started out boring. Blah blah math, blah blah geometry. The only cool thing about first period was that Spike and Dark Star were there.

Giovanni didn’t bother trying to pay attention.

(he had already finished the worksheet)

Instead he doodled in his notebook for the time. He grinned as he drew his cool bad guy self, with spikes and shades and a cool cape.

Spike leaned over and grinned at the doodle “Looks awesome boss!” she whispered. “Wanna see what I drew?”

Gio nodded and spike held up a doodle of her with spikes on her hands, feet, head, a lot of places. Giovanni gasped softly “That’s super awesome!” he whispered back

Spike squeed softly and looked back down at the worksheet they were working on, a light blush forming on her cheek

Gio didn’t see this, as Dark Star tapped his shoulder “hey boss? I’m having trouble with this one equation…”

He peered over at dark stars work “What’s the hard part?” he asked

Dark star looked at it “Number five. I forgot my calculator and I lost track of the numbers and now I’m just really lost.”

Giovanni nodded “Yeah I got you.” He grabbed a calculator from his bag “Here! Also, remember to carry the four.”

Dark star nodded happily. “You got it boss!”

Gio glanced up at the teacher before reaching down his bag and…

(He was suddenly reminded of his phone left on the bus)

Giovanni groaned softly “Dammit…”

“Mr. Potage? Mind speaking up?” came the teachers voice. “I hope you aren’t trying to distract the class.” Gio quickly shook his head.

He sighed as the bell rang

(At least next period was the field trip)

* * *

On the bus, Gio and his boys sat in the back. (The coolest place to sit according to Ben). Crusher had brought his GameChild and was passing it around so that everyone could play games.

(Gio had high fived him and Crusher had turned red for some reason.)

(Hopefully Crusher wasn’t embarrassed)

Ben had brought snacks, grinning as he presented the box of cupcakes to the group. (Seven cupcakes, one for each)

(Giovanni was really proud. Ben had been working really hard improving on his baking skills!)

(Maybe Baker would be a cool name.)

As the bus drove on everyone was having a fun time, eating cupcakes, playing games, and even pointing out cool buildings.

Gio spotted that toy shop “Oh hey!” he said loudly, calling attention to the store. “I discovered that today! Its super decked out; you think it could be a second meeting point?”

Spike gasped “My mom took me there last week! The clerk lady is super nice and there’s a huge playhouse in the back!”

Dark star grinned “I passed it yesterday, there’s a fancy telescope!”

Giovanni squeed “Its decided, then! Operation Secret base 2.0 is a go!”

The gang of future criminals cheered. But as they did, Gio noted that flamethrower looked… disappointed.

Giovanni looked at flamethrower concerned “you okay?” he asked.

Flamethrower sighed “I wish I could stay.”

Car crash frowned “yeah, I wish we could steal something too. We wanna support you, boss!”

“hey, don’t be sad! We might be able to steal stuff before you have to leave!” Gio grinned “it’ll be easy!”

* * *

Unfortunately, Gio found it impossible to try and steal stuff during the day. There were so many people… it wasn’t possible to steal stuff without being noticed. He didn’t realize that there would be chaperones.

Luckily, the tour guide people provided enough distraction for them. As much as he wanted a cool sword to throw at girls, he had a super awesome job to do.

(He knew that there would be cooler swords to throw at girls anyway.)

It had been _super_ easy to sneak away from that fight. After briefly notifying his boys to cover him, he sprinted off.

Gio bumped into some smart looking girl, briefly muttering an apology before zipping past her and into the dinosaur exhibit.

The plan was in motion! The museum was the perfect place for the start of his criminal carrer.

(He could sneak as much snacks from the gift shop as he liked, climb whatever he wanted, draw on the walls with the crayons he brought, the possibilities were endless!)

(He could even steal that cool amulet thing that that tour guide mentioned… just because he could!)

But in the meanwhile, Giovanni had to find a hiding place…

There were too many people to crawl up the air ducts without being seen, plus the vents were scary… and also too loud to walk through. The bathrooms were boring places to hide. Gio definitely didn’t want his first big heist to begin by waiting on the toilet.

Then, Giovanni spotted it. His ticket to the big villainy.

A partially covered stegosaurus skeleton was sitting abandoned in a roped off portion of the museum. That area looked like it hadn’t been used in a while, old and dusty as it was. The cloth would be enough to hide him, _and_ he could start off this robbery in the coolest way possible! In a cocoon of dinosaur bones!

(When the world heard about this, he would indisputably be the coolest supervillain ever! Nobody would dare question his power)

(But Gio needed to actually _steal_ something first. So, the weird amulet thing was the way to go!)

Giovanni snuck passed the roped off area, and ducked behind the curtain of cloth when he spotted that small museum lady passing by.

The woman looked his way, but fortunately she didn’t seem to notice Gio.

(Her eyes were almost… glassy.)

“Sir Indus…” she muttered “I messed up with the boxes, but at least It distracted them, so we won’t be kicked out yet...” The lady picked up a crate, struggling with the weight. Gio could almost hear a small popping sound as the woman winced. She walked past the unused dinosaur skeleton, briefly looking at the bones admiringly. “Don’t get distracted. Carry through Mera… for Sir Indus!”

(Well.)

(That was really weird.)

She stood by the employees only door for a while, glancing around suspiciously before disappearing behind it.

Giovanni was burning with curiosity, but he didn’t want to blow his cover yet. He kept her behavior in mind as he settled into the defunct exhibit, laying on the packing peanuts and already popped bubble wrap.

(The packaging was surprisingly comfy...)

(He hoped that it would be okay to take just a quick nap…)

(Nah, it would be fine...)

His breaths slowed softly as the world around him faded away. Before he knew it, Giovanni was fast asleep.

(He dreamed of being a villain and doing crimes with the kids that had become like family.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: i based some of his mannerisms off how i was when i was twelve  
> writing kids is super hard  
> this was mostly me trying to write more worldbuildy stuff and character interaction. not much gets accomplished but hopefully its a good setup for the next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> another link if you dont want to scroll up: https://spliinkles.tumblr.com/


End file.
